Seven
by CenationGirl22
Summary: Detectives Katherine "Kat" Fischer and Dwight Vasquez are in for a lot when they are assigned to investigate the murder of WWE Superstar Mike "The Miz" Mizanin. They are on the road with the Superstars and Divas, but soon more murders are happening. Can they figure out what's happening before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**It's a new story! I keep starting stories, I'm sorry. I've had this idea in my head for a while and finally got around to writing it.**

**This chapter takes place on the episode of Raw where the Wyatt Family attacked The Miz and wrote "Liar" on him and stuff. I don't have an exact date. I'm pretty sure it didn't take place in Las Vegas, but for the sake of this story, pretend it did.**

**I may post info on the characters at some point (not in a chapter, just in my bio or something.)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own no one except Katherine Fischer and Wesley Palmer. Dwight Vasquez belongs to my brother.**

* * *

_Monday Night Raw _had just ended and the Superstars and Divas were packing up their things to go back to the hotel.

The men's locker room was slowly emptying, and soon only a handful of people remained.

"Hey," Bray Wyatt says. "Does anyone know where Mike is? I want to talk to him."

Earlier in the night, Bray Wyatt, along with his "family," chained up Mike, or the Miz, and wrote "LIAR" across his stomach. When he was quickly chaining him up before they started rolling the cameras, Wyatt thought he may have accidentally hit Mike's head and wanted to apologize.

"I haven't seen him since the show ended," Phil Brooks says, shrugging.

Suddenly, a female shriek came from the other side of the arena, but the men just rolled their eyes. This happened every few weeks; the Divas would be in their locker room, doing God-knows-what, when they'd see a spider and one of the guys would have to go kill it.

"I'll go see what's wrong," Daniel Bryan offers, chuckling softly as he leaves the room.

"Wonder how big this one is," Phil muses, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

As he prepares to leave, the locker room door swings open, revealing Daniel, standing wide-eyed, shaking.

"Hey, Bryan, are you okay?" Cody Rhodes asks, frowning.

"I think you guys are going to want to see this," He says, softly, before turning around and walking away. The other Superstars look at each other before deciding to follow him.

Since most of the roster had left, there were only seven or eight men following Bryan. As they followed him, they saw he was heading toward the Divas Champion, AJ Lee, who had her hands over her mouth and tears streaming down her face.

"AJ?" Phil asks. "What's wrong?"

He walked up to her and saw what was wrong.

Leaning against the wall across for her lay Mike Mizanin. He was in a pool of blood, with blood dripping from his mouth. His hands were still chained from earlier in the day. The word "PRIDE" was carved into him, replacing the marker-written "Liar" that was written earlier, and it looked fresh. A folded up of paper sat beside him, untouched by the blood.

He was dead.

"W-What happened?" Cody asked, wide-eyed.

No one answered, they just stood where they were. Finally, Phil walked over and picked up the piece of paper.

"What the hell?"

"What's it say?" Cody asks.

"It's a Bible verse," He says.

_"But if people are bound in chains,_

_Held fast by cords of affliction,_

_He tells them what they have done._

_They have sinned arrogantly._

_He makes them listen to correction _

_And repent of their evil."_

"We need to do something," AJ finally says. "We need to call Hunter or the cops or something."

* * *

"Fischer, Vasquez," Captain Wesley Palmer says, looking at the two detectives. "Please come into my office."

Captain Palmer was a man in his early 60s. He was tall and broad. He had short black hair that was graying at the edges and striking blue eyes. He had transferred from Birmingham, Alabama five years ago, so he had a think southern accent.

The two detectives follow him into his office.

"I have a case for you two," He says, placing a folder on his desk. The blond-haired woman picked it up and read through it.

"Mike Mizanin?" She asks. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Mike Mizanin?!" The other detective, an African-American man in his late 20s, says, incredulously. "You mean the Miz?!"

"That's him alright," Captain Palmer confirms. "Dwight…He's dead. They found him dead and that's why you two are on this case, because you're the only one who knows anything about these WWE people. You and Kat are going to go to the Orleans Arena and question everyone there. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," They say at the same time.

Kat and Dwight leave his office.

"So you're a WWE fan?" Kat asks.

They each get in the car. Kat normally drove, but she decided to let Dwight drive.

Kat had only live in Las Vegas for a few months, when she transferred from Baltimore. She was still getting used to Dwight and just everything about the state of Nevada.

"Yeah," Dwight says, nodding. "Been one since I was a kid."

It was 11 PM, so it had been dark for a while. The streets were empty and so was the arena's parking lot as they pulled into it, the headlights illuminating everything. They pulled into a parking spot.

They got out of the car and started walking toward the large building.

"If you see wrestlers you know," Kat starts as they entered the arena. "Don't freak out or…"

She trailed off and Dwight followed her gaze. At the end of the hallway stood a heavily-tattooed man. He had messy brown hair and was holding his shirt in his hand, frowning.

"You like what you see?" A smirk played on the man's face.

"I…uh…" Kat stutters. "What are you doing? Why aren't you wearing your shirt?"

"Who are you?" The man asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

Kat smirks. "I asked first."

"Fine," He says. "I took my shirt off because I was getting Mike out of the chains and I got blood on it."

"You did what?!" Kat exclaims. "You idiot! You just tampered with the evidence!"

Ignoring her, he asks, "What's your name?"

Sensing what would happen if she spoke, Dwight butted in. "I'm Detective Vasquez, and this is my partner, Detective Fischer. We've done to - "

"You got a first name, Detective Fischer?" The man interrupts.

"What's your name?" She asks.

"I asked first," He mocks, smirking.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "If you must know, my name is Kat."

"Kate?"

"No…" She says, frowning. "Kat. Now what's your name, Mister Tattoos?"

"Phil Brooks, at your service," He says.

"Well, Mister Brooks," Dwight says, suppressing a smile. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

_This tattooed dude must be one of his favorite wrestlers,_ Kat thought.

"Go ahead," Phil says.

"Where were you earlier tonight?" Dwight asks.

"Define 'earlier tonight,'" Phil replies.

"When was the last time you saw Mike Mizanin?" Kat asks, clearly irritated.

"I was backstage getting ready for a match and they showed the segment between him and Bray Wyatt," Phil explains. "That was the last time I saw him."

"Bray Wyatt?" Kat asks. "Who is Bray - ?"

"Where's Bray Wyatt now?" Dwight interrupts. "Is he still here?"

"Yeah, everyone's here," Phil says, as if it's obvious. "Vince ordered us to stay here and told everyone else to get here."

"Who's Vince?" Kat asks.

"Great!" Dwight exclaims. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Brooks."

"No problem," He says, shrugging. "I hope you catch the son of a bitch."

Kat and Dwight continue down the hallway.

"Bray Wyatt is one of the Superstars," Dwight explains. "Vince McMahon is the owner of the WWE, which makes him their boss."

They stumble upon a room. It was mostly empty, save for the single table with food on it, although it was being put away. Oh, and it was full of large, muscular men and beautiful women.

"Are you the detectives?" A gruff voice from behind them asks.

They turn around and Dwight's eyes widen.

"Mr. McMahon…" He says.

"Yes, we are," Kat says. "I'm Detective Fischer and this is my partner, Detective Vasquez. You'll have to excuse him, he's a little starstruck."

Vince chuckles. "It's fine. It happens all the time."

Dwight's phone goes off, so he excused himself and goes to a private corner of the room.

"Where's Punk?" A red-haired girl asks, worried and confused.

"Who's Punk?" Kat asks.

"I'm Punk," A familiar voice says from behind her. She sighs and turns around.

"Where's your shirt, dude?" An African-American man with dreadlocks asks, confused but amused.

"He was busy tampering with the evidence," Kat says, frowning.

Half the room looks at Phil with wide eyes, while the other half just rolls their eyes.

The man with the dreadlocks stands up and walks over to Phil, which is when Dwight got off the phone.

"Fischer," He says, resting a hand on her shoulder.

They leave Phil and Dreads, walking to the corner of the room Dwight had answered his phone.

"What's up?" Kat asks.

"That was Palmer," He says. "We're going to be traveling with the Superstars and Divas. Since the crime happened in Las Vegas, it's our case. They don't stay in one place for long."

"What about - ?"

"The captain has already talked to Mr. McMahon." Dwight smiles. "Looks like we're going on the road."


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright, everybody, listen up."

The voices of the Superstars and Divas grew softer, until it was completely silent. They looked expectantly at Kat.

"Thank you." She smiles. "Okay, since there are so many of you, we obviously aren't going to interrogate all of you tonight."

"We'll talk to just the champions tonight," Dwight continues. "We'll go by small increments like that each night. Everyone else can leave."

As most of the roster left, a voice said, "Detectives?"

They turn around. The voice belonged to a nearly bald man who had a very large nose. He had a serious look on his face and he was frowning.

"Yes?" Kat asks.

"I'm Paul Levesque," He introduces himself. "I'm Vince's son-in-law and the Executive Vice-President of Talent and Live Events, but on-screen I'm the COO."

"I'm Detective Fischer," Kat says. "And this is my partner, Detective Vasquez."

"You can call me Dwight." Kat resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know," Paul says.

"We'll keep that in mind," Kat says, nodding.

"Punk…." He sighs, looking behind the detectives. "Punk! You're not a champion!"

"In case you forgot _Hunter_," Phil says, smirking. "I held the WWE Championship for 434 days, so that has to count for something."

"It doesn't," Paul says. "Go back to the hotel like everyone else."

Rolling his eyes, with the smirk still on his face, Phil walks down the hallway and disappears, leaving six man and one woman standing.

"I want the girl," Kat says. She points at her. "Hey, you're coming with me."

Kat led the girl down the hallway. She had long brown hair, a cut-up black t-shirt, denim shorts, and Converse. Kat guessed that's what she was wearing when she was on TV. She looked as if she had been crying.

They reach an empty room, so they enter it.

"Before we start," Kat says, "I'm aware that most of you guys don't go by your real names, so please call anyone you talk about by their real name."

"Okay," The girl says, softly.

"First: What is your name?" Kat asks.

"April Mendez," She answers. She takes a deep breath. "April Jeanette Mendez. I just go by AJ."

"Okay, AJ, before I start," Kat says, "I need to ask if you'd like a lawyer present."

Silence. Then, "No, I think I'm good."

"Okay…." Kat says. "Well, how well did you know Mike Mizanin?"

"_Did…._" AJ mumbles. "I'm still not used to using past tense verbs to describe him."

"Please just answer the question, Miss Mendez."

"He was just a co-worker. I mean, I've talked to him and all that but I didn't know him all that well." AJ gives a small shrug. "I wish I had more, but I don't."

"It's okay," Kat assures her. "Now, I've been told that you were the one who found his body. Is that correct?"

"Yes." She frowns and looks down, then back up. "I was the only Diva left in the arena, so I was going to see if Bryan or Punk could give me a ride back to the hotel. I stopped when I saw Mike. I figured he was playing a trick or something and wanted to see if someone would help him. But then I saw his stomach."

"What about his stomach?" Kat asks.

"Earlier in the night Bray Wyatt – Windham, I think, Rotunda – had chained Mike up for a segment and wrote the word _liar_ on his stomach in marker for the crazy feud they're having," She explains. "But when I found him? His stomach said _pride_ and it wasn't in marker. It was carved into him with a knife or something."

"Anything else?" Kat asks.

"Well, I feel like something else killed him," She says. "Like, I don't think it was just because of the word carved into him. There was blood coming from his mouth."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." She pauses. "Also…" Kat looks at her, eyebrows raised. "There was a piece of paper sitting next to him. I didn't read it, I just screamed. The people still left in the arena came to see what was happening. I think Punk may have read it."

"Punk?"

"Oh, right, sorry," April says. "Phil. Phil – "

"Brooks," Kat finishes. "Yeah, we've met already. Do you know anything about this piece of paper? What it said or anything like that?"

She shakes her head. "No, I wasn't listening. But I did hear him say it was a Bible verse, which was kind of weird."

"Why is that weird?" Kat asks, frowning.

"Punk – Phil – is an atheist," She says. "Why would he know that it was a Bible verse?"

There's a brief pause before Kat says, "Thank you for your time, Miss Mendez. If you think of anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to call me."

Six men remained standing. Dwight looked at each of them.

Dean Ambrose, John Cena, Cody Rhodes, Goldust, Curtis Axel, and Alberto del Rio.

Cody and John seemed to be the least threatening of the men, so Dwight settled on one of them.

"Cena."

John looked up from his phone, a worried expression on his face. He quickly looks back down at his phone and locks the screen, before walking over to the detective.

"John Cena," He introduces himself.

"Dwight Vasquez."

"I'll do my best to answer any questions you have," John says, shaking the other man's hand.

"I appreciate that," Dwight says. "Come with me, please."

Dwight and John walk down the hallway until they find a room with the door open. It was empty, so they walk in and Dwight shuts the door.

"Would you like a lawyer present?" The detective asks.

"Do I need one?" When Dwight doesn't answer, John says, "I didn't do anything, so I guess I don't need one."

"Are you sure?" Dwight asks.

"Yeah." John nods. "Can we get on to the questions? Nikki – my girlfriend – is waiting for me and she's probably worried."

Dwight decides to launch right into it. "When did you leave the arena?"

"Almost right after the show ended, around nine or nine-thirty," He says. "Nikki had a match tonight then went straight to the hotel, so I figured I'd head over there and see what she was up to."

"Did you know Mike Mizanin very well?"

"Yeah, of course," John says. "He was one of my closest friends. He was a great guy. He was actually engaged. Has anyone told her yet?"

"I'm not sure," Dwight admits. "I'll be sure she knows, though."

"Are you a wrestling fan?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Of course you are. Well, his fiancée was Maryse. Maryse Ouellet."

Not wanting to get caught up in the subject, Dwight moved on. "When did you last talk to Mike?"

"Before his match," John says. "I told him to 'knock 'em dead, kid.' I didn't mean it literally!"

The detective didn't get to say anything more because someone knocked on the door.

"Just a sec," He says.

He walks to the door and opens it, revealing Kat to be the one to have knocked on the door.

"Hey, we need to talk," She says. "Now."

Dwight turns to look at the WWE Champion. "I'll be right back."

He walks into the hallway and shuts the door.

"What's up?" he asks.

"I think I have a lead," Kat says. "I'm going to talk to Paul about it. Could you question everyone else while I'm gone? I've already questioned AJ."

"Sure," He says.

"Great!" She says. "I guess I'll meet you at the hotel and we can go over what we've learned."

"Sounds like a plan."

Kat found the door that read _Paul Levesque/Triple H_ on the nameplate beside it. She assumed they were the same person. She prayed that he hadn't left the arena yet as she knocked on the door.

A few seconds later, it opened and the on-screen COO of the WWE looked down at her. She stood at a mere 5'4, so she was practically a midget compared to him.

"Hello," He says. "Kat, right?"

"That's right." She nods. "Listen, I need to talk to Phil Brooks, and since he's not a champion, he's probably not here. I was wondering if you could help me with finding out where he is."

"Of course." He moves out of the way to let her into the room. She walks in and he shuts the door. "There is still a chance Punk's still here. He may be wandering around, hoping someone pays attention to him, so I'd suggest looking around before you go. But if he's not here, I'll write the name of his hotel and his room number."

"Thank you," Kat says, taking the paper from him when he's done writing. "I'll be sure to keep you and Mr. McMahon updated on any new developments in the case."

"We will gladly help you anyway we can," Paul says.

Kat smiles one last time – one last, tired smile – before leaving. She walks down the hallways, looking inside rooms, to try to find the tattooed Superstar.

Finally, she saw him. He still had his shirt off and he was sitting on a crate, listening to music. He was focused on whatever was on his phone and was unconsciously moving his head to the beat of the music.

Kat walked over to Phil and stood in front of him, crossing her arms. She could hear the music blasting from his headphones. His head stopped moving and his eyes had lost their intense focus, but he didn't look away from his phone.

She sighs. His head slightly starts moving again.

Kat reaches over and grabs his phone, wrenching the device from his hands.

Phil finally looks up, his face surprisingly calm and a smirk on his face. He takes off his headphones, the music growing louder, but he made no move to turn it off.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"You can, actually," Kat says, frowning. "I need to talk to you."

"I'm listening," He says. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to challenge him.

"Not here," She says. "We need to talk somewhere privately."

He smirks. "What could be so important that we can't talk right here?"

She glares at him. "You know exactly what. The information about this case is confidential and I can't have someone just walk by, hearing us talking, and decide to blab it to the media."

"If you give me my phone back, I'll go wherever you want me to," He says.

Kat raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I promise," He says. "Would I lie to you?"

"I don't know you that well," She says. "But based on what I know about you, yes, you probably would lie to me."

He shrugs. "Fair enough." They both glare at each other for a few silent moments, until Phil finally sighs and says, "Fine. I'll go with you. I don't want this getting out to the public. It's none of their goddamn business and I want it to stay that way."

Kat lets out a sigh of relief. "Good." She hands him his phone. "Now, come on. I found an empty room on the way over here."


End file.
